


Jon Says No

by antistia22



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 7x03, Drabble, Episode: s07e03 The Queen's Justice, Jon Snow is King in the North
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-27 16:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15028253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antistia22/pseuds/antistia22
Summary: "If you wouldn't mind handing over your weapons?"This was the first test, and they were forcing his hand. Almost as if they had planned this, assumed his answer in advance. Something shifted in Jon's mind."No. We will not."





	Jon Says No

 

 

 

"The Bastard of Winterfell."

 

"Dwarf of Casterly Rock."

 

Tyrion's face softened with a smirk. Jon smiled, stepping forward to shake his hand.

 

"I believe we last saw each other atop of the Wall."

 

"You were pissin' off the edge, if I remember right." Tyrion smiled. Jon noticed a crude diagonal scar crossing the dwarf's face from forehead to his beard covered cheek. "Picked up some scars along the road?"

 

He nodded, eyeing Jon's own scars and Stark armor,  "It's been a long road. But we're both still here." Jon nodded in turn solemnly. Tyrion shifted his focus to Davos behind him, "I'm Tyrion Lannister."

 

"Ser Davos Seaworth." The two shook hands.

 

"Ah. The Onion Knight. Fought on opposite sides in the Battle of Blackwater Bay."

 

"Unluckily for me."

 

Jon looked to the woman standing to the right behind Tyrion. She was young, must be no older than his own age. She stood out with her darker skin and black hair poofed out around her face. He noted she wore pants under her dress skirt. Tyrion introduced her. "Missandei is the Queen's most trusted adviser."

 

_Ah, an adviser. How old is this queen of theirs?_

 

"Welcome to Dragonstone. Our Queen knows this is a long journey and appreciates the efforts you have made on her behalf." Jon shifted stiffly. Her tone slightly reminded him of Sansa's false courtesies with the Northern Lords. "If you wouldn't mind handing over your weapons?" 

 

The breeze from the ocean had a cold sting to it as it blew across the shore in that moment. He eyed this Missandei with unease, then turned to Davos. Davos gave a worried look but lowered his eyes to the sand. It was dangerous to refuse, yet dangerous not to. Jon glanced at the Dothraki around him who were already moving towards them even before he gave his consent. This was the first test, and they were forcing his hand. Almost as if they had planned this, assumed his answer in advance. Something shifted in Jon's mind.

 

"No. We will not."

 

Missandei looked at him in shocked surprise, Tyrion a growing look of dread. The Dothraki halted and somehow displayed more tension in their stances than before. Jon felt Davos' gaze on him as well. 

 

Tyrion took a step towards him, "Jon, I would advise that you-"

 

"What other reason am I to assume than that we are now prisoners of this island, that you should confiscate my weapons immediately?" 

 

"The security of our Queen is-"

 

"If we are to be prisoners, you should at least do us the courtesy of declaring it before treating us so."

 

"I assure you, you are in no way to be the Queen's prisoners." But the dwarf could not quite meet Jon's eyes.

 

"No? And is not our security and rights as  _guests_ to be respected, much less the security and rights of a King? Am I not allowed the protection of my own guards as your Queen openly displays hers?" He looked pointedly toward the tall Dothraki man he assumed was her sworn sword, the fierce looking one staring him down.

 

Tyrion was silent, tensely shifting his feet. 

 

"Your Queen wishes to ensure that no attempt will be made on her life or any of yours. How am I to ensure the security of my own men? This would be why we observe guest rights, but we both know how guest rights were so honoured for my brother as the previous King in the North.  I was summoned here by her, by you, surrounded by men who are strangers to me. I took a risk in sailing here, trusting in strangers, yet you both have immediately shown you have no intention of showing faith to me. What does that say if she is claiming to be the true Queen of Westeros?"

 

 "And what is our Queen to assume if you walk in with your sword remaining by your side?"

 

"I wouldn't know, I haven't met her yet to know what she would think. She has two armies, a massive fleet and dragons, I my sword, ten Northern soldiers and one lonely ship crew. What harm could I cause that she could not easily repay with fire and blood? Then again, how would the North respond if anything should happen to their King?  So, either I turn around and get back on my ship, albeit tempting the wrath and skill of 20 Dothraki soldiers, or we continue on to meet your Queen. But I have no intention of turning around."

 

 Tyrion grimaced, brow furrowing as he deliberated. He gave a single curt nod, "As you will, Snow."

 

"What will you do with my ship?"

 

"You're most definitely not a green-boy anymore, are you?" Tyrion huffed, "Your ship will be docked in Dragonstone port and your men shall have access to unload your belongings as you settle here. As for now, we'll transport this smaller boat to the other side of the island where you may have better access to your ship. I hope your stay will be more pleasing than your initial greeting."

 

Missandei looked between the two when they remained silent for a time. She looked concerned as she extended her hand behind her, "Please, this way."

 

Jon's hand fell to the wolf pommel of Longclaw as he walked beside Davos. "Well that went well."

 

Jon fought to suppress a laugh. If this was how they were met at their arrival, he couldn't imagine how the rest of his time at Dragonstone would unfold.

 

 


End file.
